It Happened in Colour
by Klaudee
Summary: His name was Joe Miller and Bruce won't be able to return him the bike, because sometimes the time you have hasn't been granted to others as well. Now he knows he liked watermelons, used to feed pigeons and has a granddaughter that know her way around grill. And that it all happened in colour and was much more fun than it looks.


The sun was shining into her eyes as she continued staring onto the ground. The brown soil under her scruffy black shoes was starting to get dry after being exposed to warm air and sunlight, the green grass around her still vibrant in its colour.

Holly couldn't even recall how long she has been standing in one place.

Lifting her right hand of her left wrist, that she has been squeezing and the too large watch on it after glancing at the time, she realized that she has been standing there for two hours. Her legs felt stiff and she could barely wiggle her fingers in the shoes. They were the only pair out of the three that she owned that she could pair up with black skirt. Wearing pink sandals or brown flip-flops was out of question and she would probably catch cold from them anyway.

The summer was almost gone and the weather turning cold and unwelcoming.

But it chose this day to remind them, that it was used to be very nice.

Holly bitterly mulled over this thought. Maybe she was just naïve or just watched way too many movies, that she thought it was supposed to rain and be windy at times like this. This weather just didn't seem right. But at least it served for Aunt Grace to come too. Her hip was becoming a huge problem for her and at days when the weather turned sour, it was damn near impossible to even walk from kitchen to living room. Never mind a walk across half of the town.

Of course with a car it would have been easier, but Holly didn't have that kind of money to buy one. She had her trusty bicycle that got her through her whole life. She used to ride that monstrosity even back in elementary school, when she needed to walk over to the raised curb to hop on the saddle since she wasn't able to put her leg over the rod. But those days are over and now she was plenty tall to get on the bike without having the need to use a stool.

The very same bicycle that was now chained to a fence about 30 feet away from her, partially hidden by a bush. Holly didn't really have to bother herself with chaining that rusting piece of metal. She was sure no one was going to steal that. And if they would, the only direction the bike would go would be the scrap-yard. Since her uncle was working there, she knew if that happened, she would have to walk back home and in the evening she would find it back in front of her home after hearing the doorbell ringing.

And if someone needed her to prove that the bike was really hers, she could whip out the papers and shove them in their faces, before getting it back.  
Wouldn't be the first time it happened.

Grandad Joe taught her best.

Whether to store important papers under the couch or to keep recipes from groceries, just in case or how to flip burgers and fill a hotdog with ketchup proportionally all along the roll.

Joe was a smart man. That thing was sure.

The thought of burgers and hotdogs made her think that she had just this day off and she had to go back to work tomorrow.

The Blue Hill diner wouldn't the same place without her. At least that was what that sleazy ball Clint told her as his reasoning for forcing her to come in tomorrow. Thankfully Jody wasn't there to hear it, otherwise she would put in her two cents and make Clint give her at least three days off.

Holly didn't mind it that much. First of all, she knew she needed the money and couldn't do without the job. Second, the motion of flipping meat on the grill was dead set in her hands and she knew she could get lost in it and forget about the world, not to mention the smell and fumes of oil that was used way too many times will probably clog her brain and she won't be able to put together one clear sentence. Not to say that she wouldn't be happier making sweet looking pies like Jody does, but her bum hands don't allow her that kind of precise and gentle work. And lastly, she had nothing better to do.

It's not like standing around he-

The sound of her bicycle bell chiming rang around. Holly turned around sharply, her long dark curly hair whipping her in the face by the motion.

At the entrance stood a man fumbling around, hands stretched in front of him after bumping into her bicycle. After assuring himself that the vehicle wasn't going to topple over or just fall apart, he corrected his askew glasses and put his hands together, wringing them. After the bell quieted down, and it sure took a damn while, since it was granddad Joe that installed that monstrosity on the handle, the man took a few steps in her direction before noticing her.

Holly, after she noticed he realized he wasn't alone, turned back around, ignoring him.

And she would have continued ignoring him happily if he hadn't decided to stand next to her.

She turned to look at him quizzically, softly arching her eyebrow at him.

The man noticing her stare, stumbled out a few words, "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not intruding.. I can leave if you want?" He asked her finally turning to look at her with a timid expression on his face.

After taking a good look on his face and his curly hair, a spark of recognition shot through her.

"You are that bike-stealer." She told him calmly.

The man widened his eyes behind the specs. Pursing his lips to say something, he stopped to look at the rusty bicycle back at the fence. He frowned in that direction and looked back at her.

"I mean the one that looked even worse that this one with that horrible sticker of watermelon on the back light that Grandad Joe lent to you? The one that you never returned?" Holly offered the man, watching realization seep into his face.

He smiled sheepishly under his nose. "Yeah.. I don't think that is going to happen. I'm sorry." He told her, rubbing the back of his neck.

Holly nodded at his words. "That's fine. I mean it wasn't even my bike, still belonged to Granddad. It's not like I could drive it anyway. But now I at least know there is no use to hope that it will return."

The man looked a bit embarrassed at her words. Silence enveloped them, letting them stand in nice silence, staring at the small mound of soil in front on them.

"Don't worry, he left me some things that are far more important to me anyway." She told him. "He used to collect these photographs in black and white and when I was little, we used to play a game to guess which color was which. I didn't like it a lot, those pictures. Thought that they were sad and frozen in time. But he always said that it happened in colour and was much more fun than it looks. So no need to feel bad about the bike." Holly stopped herself and took a deep breath.

"You didn't know, did you?" Holly asked after a short while.

"I'm sorry?" He asked her in return, looking at her again.

"About Granddad." She explained.

The man shook his head. "No, I didn't. I just wanted to stop by and say thank you for that bike. Sorry, if I knew I would have at least put on some other shirt." He stammered out, motioning his hand at his yellow button-up.

"Do you know you said sorry every time you said something? You should stop apologising for things that you are not responsible for." Holly told him. "And I'm sure he doesn't mind. He outright forbid me to wear some all black, so I am sure that yellow shirt makes him happy."

He gave her an once-over. "I don't see any other than black."

Holly gave him a look, before flipping her mass of hair over her left shoulder, showing his her watermelon earrings. "He really liked that fruit." She explained at seeing his amused expression.

"You know, I am sure he would be to know that you visited him. He would really like that." She told him quietly, her eyes finally resting on the headstone, the place that she was avoiding looking the most.

Man next to her followed her gaze.

"I wanted to visit sooner, but with everything that happened.." He shook his head. "I just needed some time to put everything back together, find some sliver of normalcy and accept that this is the life that I am apparently living now. I guess it look longer than the time that your granddad had left. He was a smart man. He helped me, you know?" He told her, catching her hazel eyes. "I was in a tough spot. Everything around me was in ruins, literally, and then he showed up, threw me some clothes and gave me that bike. He didn't even blink twice at what he was seeing and took it astride." He shook his head softly, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"He actually complained about me scaring the pigeons."

Holly let herself smile at his words. "That doesn't really surprise me. Those were his buddies, he used to feed them every day at work." Her mind drifted to a memory of granddad forcing her to go to shop to buy those pesky feathery nuisances seeds.

He nodded, stuffing hands in his pants pockets. "I know it may be useless now, but he really helped me a lot and I know it may seem that people like me, like the other guys don't really appreciate other peoples help and sacrifice, but I can promise you that I will remember him for the rest of my life." He told her, his warm brown eyes sincere. Holly nodded in acknowledgement of his words.

"I'm sorry if this question is rude, but do you have any family left?" He asked her, his tone curious.

Holly nodded, twisting hair in her hand, willing her hands to stop trembling. "Even though he was my granddad, he was more of a father to me really. My biological parents are out of the picture, but I still have an aunt, uncle and two cousins, so I am not really alone. And I have a good friend at work, so.." She trailed of, tugging at her ends. Was it just her, or was it getting colder? She tucked her sweater around her body tighter with her free hand.

"And where do you work? If you do, that is."

"The Blue Hill diner. I though you could smell it. I swear the grease and oil from burgers will be forever imprinted in my bones." Holly complained to him.

"Didn't have a clue." The man told her with a soft smile.

Holly rolled her eyes at him. "That's really nice of you to say, but I didn't wash my hair since yesterday and the smell doesn't come off after at least 15 minutes in the-"

Sound of beeping interrupted her. Holly looked surprised at her watch that was almost hanging from her wrist. She immediately tried to get it shut down, fingers fumbling around the small controls but with how her hand was shaking she couldn't push a single button. Feeling a familiar wetness springing into her eyes, blurring her vision, she was growing more and more frustrated. It was a damn alarm as a reminder to granddad to take pills.

"I'm sorry.. Just give me a second- I'll stop it right now, just.. I don't know which button-", a small sob escaped her mouth. She right away tried to stifle it, but it didn't help. Raising a hand to wipe her cheeks, she took a deep breath through her nose, sniffling.

A warm hand gently took her wrist where her watch was. After a few seconds, a button was pushed and the annoying beeping stopped.

Holly was still rubbing her face, refusing to look at the man. She was holding up so well, until that ruined it.

"Here." He told her quietly, bringing a tissue in the line of her sight.

She took it from him, her hand still shaking and blew her nose. "I don't suppose you want it back." She told him after she was done, lifting the crumbled tissue in the air.

"I think it's yours now." He told her, his eyes watching her closely.

"Yeah." Holly sniffed once more, raising her head to look at him. "I guess we are even now."

He raised his eyebrow. "A bike for a tissue? I think it takes more than that." He told her with a quiet laugh. He raised hand in the air, letting in dangle there for a moment, before resting it on her shoulder.

Holly closed her eyes in contempt at feeling the familiar sensation. Granddad used to do that all the time, whether he was giving her life advice or just telling her that some kids broke a window in the warehouse.

"You know, you could stop by at the Blue Hill. I make mean burgers and I promise I won't get snot in them." Holly offered, wiping her nose.

"Thanks for that, but I am a vegetarian." He apologised, letting his hand fall from her shoulder.

"Oh." Holly said surprised. She brushed of the feeling of loss when his put his hand back. "Well then, Jody makes the best pies in town, if you like them."

"I think that could work."

"Well then tell her that Holly sent you and she'll give you a lemonade for free."

"I can't pass up on that. And I'm Bruce, by the way."

"Nice to meet you doc. I'm Holly."

After Bruce left, Holly stayed where she was, staring at the grave.

 _Joe Miller_

 _1929-2012_

 _Beloved father, grandfather, friend_

The sun was almost coming down when Holly finally moved from her spot. When she was in the entry of the cemetery on her bike, with her hand that was still shaking softly, she rang the bell and left.

Grass on the spot where she stood was beaten down and yellowed, as if thousand men walked over it. And even though Holly was the only one who stood there, she bore more than just thousand men souls on her shoulders.

.

.

.

Hellou. So this is probably just a one-shot, but as once Joker said, there is room for _agressive expansion_ , so let me know.

This was inspired by that lovely security guard from the first Avengers. And I thought that maybe Bruce could visit after. So this happened.


End file.
